From 600+ conversations with the world’s leading thinkers.
The reality is – you can't accomplish anything unless you're all in emotionally, physically… you have to put it all on the table. You can't just put a little part of you out there in case you get hurt… guess what… everything about competition will hurt.
The level of preparation before fighters' step into the octagon is huge – at minimum fighters will train for 6-8 week, non-stop at camp, just for this 3 or 5, 5 minute-a-round battle. It is the loneliest sport in the world when it comes to it…. you are training with your team, but once you enter the octagon and that gate closes? It is you alone.
When you're training in the martial arts, you always want to be getting beaten in the practice room. That signifies you're fighting good people. When you're getting beaten, you're getting better, you're learning.
There have been times when I've been on the sidelines, dreading a gruelling running session, wondering why I'm doing this. But then I remember my teammates are all pushing through the same challenges. That collective effort helps me to buckle down and just get on with it.
To be a great fighter you obviously have to have talent, but what really matters is dedication and discipline. I've seen so many guys with talent where I've thought, 'this guy's going to be a world champion...' but they've not had the dedication. You can't just succeed with talent.
When you're getting defeated in training, you're getting better. You've got to get tested in life if you're going to improve. When you're training in the martial arts, you always want to be getting beaten in the practice room. That signifies you're fighting good people.
When I approach anything, especially high-risk activities, I always brace myself for the worst outcome – death. By accepting death, they rid themselves of the fear and could focus purely on survival. This mentality is my cornerstone.
I earn my living from coaching people how to fight… it may come as a surprise, therefore, to learn that until I was in my early twenties, I was terrified of fighting. I hated arguing, shouting, violence – all forms of conflict, basically. That's not unusual, of course, but to be honest, I was a bit of a wimp – or, as some of the kids in school liked to tell me, a pussy.
Upon arriving in Germany, swimming became my sanctuary during a time when I had no other home. Being new to the country and unfamiliar with its swimming culture, the sport offered me solace and a sense of belonging. It provided a common language that allowed me to connect with others effortlessly, facilitating a smoother integration into German society.
You're not going to be a warrior in battle unless you are a warrior in preparation. You have to be single-minded, you can't just show-up on the night.
I knew I could still fight, and some of the people close to me said, 'not with one eye you can't' so I continued anyway... I lied, I cheated and scammed the system... I did whatever I could. It was highly stressful, but I believed in myself.
There is an old saying in martial arts… blood and honour. In battle, you battle, but afterwards there's respect. You're giving everything in that place- you've done everything you can apart from dying, and you've shared that with this other individual. You shared blood, tears, sweat and competition. It's the height of challenge- and once that challenge is over, the better man or woman wins in that moment – and so the opponents have nothing but respect for each other.